The Marauders were all in the common room together—finally, after Remus' long Hospital Wing stay—and it invited a feeling of camaraderie that Remus had missed indeed.

Sirius was sprawled across the floor, writing diligently with pages of parchment surrounding him. He had not brushed his hair today, and it stuck up a little like James'. Remus reckoned Sirius was copying James' style on purpose, and it was sort of sweet (even though both boys' hair looked like literal rats' nests).

James had managed to climb to the top of the destroyed bed in the corner (there were only three functional beds in the Marauders' dormitory. Remus didn't know what had happened to the last one, but it was a mess), and he was talking animatedly from his perch: his hands were flapping wildly as he tried to express himself, and his thoughts were less organized than his trunk (which was really saying something. James' trunk was a black hole that seemed to swallow everything within a meter radius, and it smelled of sweat and stale sweets). Sirius looked a little panicked at the apparent speed at which he was meant to be writing, but he kept up admirably.

Remus was pacing back and forth near his bed, because pacing helped him collect his thoughts. It usually made him feel self-conscious—after all, didn't caged animals do the same thing?—but he'd recently started to feel more comfortable doing it around the Marauders. He jumped in a few times with revisions to the plan, but he mostly just watched his friends fondly. He loved being part of a group. He didn't want anything from them but their company.

Peter was lying on his bed sideways, head propped on bent arm and smiling widely. He didn't talk much (he never did around James and Sirius), but it was clear that he enjoyed watching their combined genius. He kept staring at Remus for some reason, though, and Remus got too self-conscious and stopped pacing around.

They continued their various activities until it had grown dark outside—indeed, it had taken what seemed like ages of planning—but finally, the Marauders' Halloween plan was in place.

"We forgot one thing!" James squawked. He'd only descended halfway from his place on the fifth bed, and now he crawled back up immediately. "Costumes! What are we wearing? For Halloween!"

"Same thing as last year?" Remus offered. They'd dressed up as each other for Halloween and it had been quite enjoyable. "Except we could switch. I want to be Peter this time." Peter beamed at Remus, who beamed right back.

James shook his head. "No. That was fun for one year, but I want something else this year. Like... what about... the professors?"

"We already did a prank on them this year. Remember the suits of armor?" said Remus.

Poor Sirius was rubbing his wand hand (which was covered in ink) and making a face. "We don't have to write this one down, right?"

"Let Remus write. He has the second-best handwriting," said James, and Remus groaned and switched places with Sirius. Sirius stuck his tongue out at Remus, and James rolled his eyes at both of them before continuing. "I think... maybe..." James trailed off, and an evil grin suddenly spread across his face. "I got it."

"Oh, no."

"So we dress up as birds... hey, what's a bird that flies in a V-shape?"

"Geese?" said Remus. "That's the dumbest costume I've ever heard of."

"No, you haven't heard the whole thing! Save your judgement for the end, mate."

"Fwoopers fly in V's," offered Peter.

James grinned. "Excellent. So we dress up as Fwoopers, because geese are dumb..."

"Why can't we be Phoenixes?" asked Sirius. "I like Phoenixes better."

"Because Fwoopers fly in V's, and Phoenixes are mostly solitary creatures. Right, Peter? You seem to know a bit about birds."

"Yeah," said Peter, swelling with pride.

"So we dress up as Fwoopers, because geese are dumb and phoenixes are lonely, and then we convince the first-year kids to dress up as Fwoopers as well, and then we all fly around the castle in a V and screech at the tops of our lungs—like Fwoopers—and annoy the teachers! It's brilliant!"

"James," said Remus. He had not started writing yet. "Tell me. What happened the last time you roped innocent first-years into your plans?"

"I got detention for the whole second half of the year and lost Gryffindor a hundred points," said James. Indeed, that was what had happened exactly the year prior, when James had coerced tens of first-years to fly back to Hogwarts with him after holidays instead of taking the train. "But this is different. Last year, we were first-years, too. This year, we're second-years teaching first-years how to cause trouble safely. Older and wiser. And all that."

"...You're leading people younger than you into danger. Arguably, that's worse."

"That's the other difference!" said James. "Flying to Hogwarts was kinda dangerous. Nothing was going to happen, but it was still kinda dangerous. But this isn't dangerous at all. Just fun! We're not technically breaking any rules; only flying around for a bit. It's not like we're going to do it during class..." Suddenly, James' eyes lit up.

"No," said Remus. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I do know that look. No."

James' shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you're right. I don't want to be banned from trying out for Quidditch. Okay. We're not breaking any rules doing this, Remus. Come on. Help us make some Fwooper costumes."

Remus sighed. "All right, but I'm not participating. I hate flying."

"Yeah, okay," said James. "We didn't need your permission anyway, but I'm glad you're okay with it. And I'm sort of glad you don't want to—no offense, mate, but you were an awful flier."

Remus frowned, indignant. "I'll have you know that I was exactly average. Passed my exam and everything."

"I know. I'm just teasing. Don't... fly off the handle, haha."

"You're an idiot," said Remus with an eyeroll, and Sirius loudly collapsed into laughter behind him. "So how exactly do we go about making Fwooper costumes and recruiting first-years?"

A mischievous smile spread across James' face. "First," he said grandly, throwing his arms out to the sky, "we plan!"

Sirius and Remus groaned. As much as Remus was happy to be back from the Hospital Wing, he was really sick of planning.

"All right, Peter, are you ready?" asked James.

"I don't see why I have to do the distracting again," Peter grumbled. "Maybe I want in on the action this time."

"Well, too bad. Me and Sirius are the best at doing the spells, and Remus knows the spells. You're not good at anything in particular, so..."

"Peter's very good at spells," said Remus. "Maybe we should invite him to join us this time."

"Then who's going to do the distracting?"

"I will," offered Remus. "You know the spells. You've got them all outlined in the plan. You don't need me."

"But you'd have to talk to Pensley to do the distracting, Remus, and you hate her."

"I don't hate her!" said Remus, because hatred was reserved for full moons. He knew what hatred was, and he didn't hate Pensley. "I don't hate her," he said again. "I strongly dislike her. As a person and as a teacher. But that doesn't mean she's bad."

"Don't care. You're not doing the distracting, Remus. Absolutely not."

"But..." said Peter.

"Nope. Remus needs to come with us. Got it, Peter?"

Peter's eyes suddenly got wide, and Remus heard his heart rate speed up very quickly. "Are you... telling Remus...?" Peter squeaked.

"What? Shut your mouth, Peter! No!"

"Tell me what?" asked Remus. "Is it something important?"

"Nah," said James, casting another furious look towards Peter. "Don't worry about it. You're coming with us, and Peter is doing the distracting. Got it, Pete?"

Peter hung his head and nodded. "Right."

"Pensley really likes you anyway," said Remus, trying to make Peter feel better. "You'll be good at it. The best."

"Okay," sighed Peter. He set off in the direction of Pensley and started talking to her. James and Sirius peered out from behind the corner, and Remus stayed behind it, crossing his arms. He could hear Peter and Pensley perfectly anyway. "Professor," Peter was saying sweetly, "what is it today? Your name, I mean."

"Professor Tina," trilled Pensley. "What can I do for you, Leonardo?"

"Well, I'm a little... confused... about hags. I'd love it if you could explain them further."

Pensley giggled. "Hags? To learn about hags, Leonardo, you first must learn about yourself. Close your eyes..."

"This is ridiculous," Remus grumbled.

"Shhh!" said James. "It's got her distracted, though. Come on."

The Marauders' master plan this year was to decorate the DAD classroom for Halloween. A year prior, they'd done the same to Dumbledore's office—they had covered the room in bat, spider, and pumpkin decorations, and Dumbledore had left them up for a long time. It had been a big hit, and they'd decided to do the same thing this year... except with Pensley this time, because they'd wanted to annoy her almost as much as she'd annoyed them.

They snuck into the DAD room and started hanging decorations. Remus noted that it had been a lot more exciting last year when they'd barely known how to do the spells, but it was still a certain sort of thrill that came with breaking the rules. Somehow, James had sent home for even more decorations this year, and it was difficult to carry them all, much less fit them all onto the DAD classroom walls and ceiling.

"I hereby declare Phase One completed," said James upon hanging the last decoration.

"Can we get out of here now?" said Remus. "The scented candles are a nightmare."

Sirius leaned against the wall and grinned. "Really? You must have a pretty good sense of smell." James poked Sirius in the side with his elbow, and Remus knit his brows in confusion and worry. Having a good sense of smell wasn't enough to out him as a werewolf, was it?

"I guess," said Remus slowly, "but it's mostly just... annoying. Not what I'm used to. I'm sensitive."

"China doll," murmured Sirius, and Remus nearly hexed him.

"Time for Phase Two," said James.

Sirius and Remus shut up, and then the three Marauders snuck out of the DAD room and crept down the corridor. Pensley was still talking to Peter about knowing himself, and Remus huffed a small breath of annoyance. "Calm down, mate," said James. "She's a nut. We already knew that. She's not hurting anyone."

"I am calm," said Remus. "She just annoys me a bit. That's all."

"Do you have the costumes?" asked Sirius.

"Yep!" said James. "This is gonna be great. All right: here's the plan. We sneak into the Gryffindor common room and we hand out costumes to whoever agrees."

"Whomever," said Remus.

"I don't know who he is, but I'm sure he'll agree, too. And then we tell them all the plan. Tomorrow we'll fly around the grounds in a V formation and make annoying Fwooper noises. It'll be amazing."

"Right," said Remus. He still thought it was a pretty stupid idea (on multiple levels), but he wasn't about to tell his friends that. What was even the point?

James had shrunk the costumes to fit inside his pocket. They'd decided to omit any other House from the plan ("Only Gryffindors will be up for it," James had said, "because they're the coolest"). It was a bit awkward sneaking about the castle in broad daylight; they had to constantly dodge other students who were walking around—but at least it was a bit more roomy without Peter under the Cloak.

"We can take the Cloak off now," said James. "We're far enough away that no one will be able to see that we've just emerged from Pensley's office." With that, he slid the Cloak off of them and put it in his pocket. His hair stuck up even more from the static electricity, and Remus nearly laughed out loud.

"They'll know it was us," said Remus. "That's the thing about running jokes. They figure out one, they've figured out them all—and Dumbledore knows for certain that it was us last year, remember?"

"Doesn't matter," said Sirius. "They can't prove it."

"Look," said James, "you're clever, Loopy McLoony, but you really don't understand some things. The idea is to maintain mystery. They know it's us, yeah, but they don't know it's us. Got it?"

"Not really. And, since I'm assuming you want to be the one to lead the V formation, James..."

"I absolutely do."

"...then everyone will know that it was you who planned it all."

"We don't have to maintain mystery for that one. It's just fun."

"You might get detention."

"Detention is fun," said James. "Sirius brings the mirror sometimes and we talk to each other during detentions, even when we're in separate rooms. Small price to pay for such delicious havoc."

"Delicious havoc," Remus scoffed. "What...?" He trailed off.

"What is it, Remus?" asked James.

Remus inhaled. He smelt tears. Someone was crying... and indeed, he heard soft, stifled sobs coming from down the corridor. "This way," he said. "Come on."

He started walking briskly towards it. He didn't recognize the scent, so it couldn't be someone that he knew... but it was probably a boy, based on the sound and the scent. Sure enough, Remus poked his head around the corridor and saw a miserable young first-year Ravenclaw hanging upside-down off of a secluded bench in the shadows. Tears were dripping into the boy's sandy hair, and his light-colored eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed.

"All right, there?" asked Remus softly. James and Sirius hid behind him, clearly lost for words.

"You're P-Potter and... B-B-Black. And... Lupin," sobbed the boy, suddenly sitting up and holding his head.

"You know us?"

"Evvvveryone d-does." The boy wiped his eyes and winced slightly. He was in pain; Remus recognized pain when he saw it.

There was a long silence. Remus wasn't sure what to say. He didn't often speak to his peers (save the Marauders), and he'd totally clammed up.

James began talking, and Remus thought for a moment that he was coming to Remus' rescue and helping the boy—because James surely knew what to do; James was always right. But alas, this was not the case. Apparently, James wasn't feeling sympathetic today in the least. "As interesting as this is, Remus-my-friend," said James, "we're going to go do that prank. Coming with?"

"You're just... leaving this boy alone?"

"If he needs someone, he can go find a teacher."

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Don't tell me you're uncomfortable. You don't have a problem comforting me when I'm like that."

"You're never like that," said James. "You're... quieter about it when you're ill. Less sobby. And less drippy. And less... snotty. And stuff. Besides, I..." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You're my friend. It's my duty to help you. But, well... I'm excited, and I don't want to... be slowed down. It's just a first-year. I've got no obligations, and I'm sure he's got other friends to help him."

"Yeah?" said Remus scornfully. "I don't see them, James."

"My friends are doing schoolwork," said the boy. "They told me to go away because I was an-an... annoying them!" The boy started sobbing anew. Remus wasn't sure what to say.

Sirius, unfortunately, did. "Your crying is pretty annoying, kid," he said, and the boy started crying harder. Remus' mouth dropped open a centimeter, and he scrambled for a way to tell Sirius that he was being a git without making Sirius hate him, because as much as Remus wanted to help, he couldn't lose his friends (Professor Questus had said so!). Light-hearted teasing was one thing, but Remus couldn't possibly genuinely call out his friends for being rude... oh, this was quite the dilemma.

James was smiling, which was downright horrible of him. "Coming with, Remus?" he asked, twirling his wand around his fingers lazily.

Even though Remus' heart was already feeling a bit queasy, it constricted even more at the question. He wanted to go with his friends and laugh at their stupidity and help them avoid detention. He wanted to laugh in the dormitory afterwards and watch James get all animated and excited. He wanted to sit with Peter and share his quiet excitement at being accepted. He wanted to be with his friends, not this crying first-year.

Remus' heart was now squeezing into itself so violently that Remus feared it would explode. He wanted to leave the first-year alone, and that made him just as bad as he'd thought Sirius and James to be, didn't it? Remus was worse than Sirius and James, actually, since leaving the first-year alone would be a wickedly hypocritical thing to do. As a person who was often ill himself—as a person who took refuge in his friends and teachers when he wasn't feeling well—as someone who always had someone else to fall back on, even at his worst, even if it was just his parents—yes, it would be awful of Remus to leave the boy alone when he knew firsthand how it felt.

But Remus couldn't lose his friends. He didn't get much time with them between full moons anyway, and who knew how much they'd start to hate Remus if he stopped spending time with them? And what harm could it do, asking the boy to buck up and go find a teacher by himself? That was what Remus would have done. He wouldn't have burdened a second-year if it had been him. It had been him a few times, actually, and Remus had always gotten through all by himself—he'd found Professor Questus, or Madam Pomfrey, or Professor Dumbledore...

But this boy didn't even have that.

But Remus wanted to go with his friends! He'd only just gotten back from the full moon, after all, and he deserved some time to himself...

But his conscience wouldn't let him. This crying first-year needed help, and Remus couldn't leave him to his tears.

"I'll catch up later," he said with a wave of his hand. "Go on without me."

"But...!"

"Relay the whole thing back to me later."

"But...!"

"And do rescue Peter from Pensley."

"Fine, mate," said Sirius. "Have it your way."

"See you later. Don't get caught."

"We probably will." James shrugged, grinned, and then ambled off with Sirius. Fortunately, neither Sirius nor James sounded angry. Remus watched them go and then turned back to the dripping and snotty first-year.

"Hey, budge over," he said kindly, and sat next to the first-year. The first-year was staring up at him in awe.

"L-Lupin, right?"

"Remus," said Remus. "You are...?"

"Oswald," said the boy, wiping his eyes. "Ozzie. Th-thank you so much. You didn't need to do that."

"I wanted to," Remus lied, and then he immediately changed the subject. "How did you know my name?"

"You and your friends are just about famous! Everyone talks about you! My Prefect told me to watch out for you because you'd try to rope me into some stupid prank. Well, not you, specifically, but Black and Pettigrew and Potter. People say that you seem nice enough, but you follow them around a lot."

"I just don't get caught as much as they do," whispered Remus, and then grinned at Oswald's horrified expression. "I'm joking. They have more time than I do, and sometimes I don't approve of their antics. But they're good people. And James is a great Quidditch player, isn't he?"

"I know! They're so cool. I wish I could be just like them."

"Yeah, me too."

"You really didn't need to do all this," Oswald repeated. "Stay with me, I mean. Help me. You needn't."

"I wanted to; I really did. You seem pretty cool, yourself." Two more lies, but Oswald beamed anyway. Remus smiled, but he thought perhaps it came across as a grimace. He stopped smiling. "So... what's the matter, Oswald?"

Oswald's eyes welled up again, and he brought his knees up to his chest. "I'm ill!" he cried. "I feel really really bad. My head hurts and I feel like I can hardly breathe!"

"Why don't you go to the Hospital Wing?"

"Because... oh, please don't laugh."

"I would never," said Remus. And he really wouldn't. Not after all the times that he'd been too stubborn to go to the Hospital Wing. That would be horribly hypocritical of him.

"I don't know where it i-is. And I'm too... too em-embarrassed to a-a-a-ask."

Remus blinked. "Oh. Yeah, I guess that's the downside of not having maps in this place. Hogwarts is a huge school." He stood up. "Well, after living with James and Sirius... I know exactly where the Hospital Wing is. Can't tell you how many hexes have gone wrong." That was a partial truth. "Did you know that once Peter ended up with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth?" That was the truth.

Oswald giggled a bit and stood up, only to waver a bit and then sit back down. "I'm dizzy. I don't think I can w-w-walk. Oh, this is so embarrassing!"

"No, don't be embarrassed." Remus hesitated, and then he took hold of Oswald's arm, helping him stand and beginning to walk. Poor Oswald's cheeks were bright red. Remus knew how that felt. Madam Pomfrey had to walk him back to the castle after every full moon, and it leaning on her so much still made Remus embarrassed (when he had the presence of mind to be so). "Can I tell you a secret?"

Oswald nodded, his eyes large. He was shaking and pale all over. "I promise I won't ever tell."

"Okay, good. If you do, then I'm telling my friends to play a prank on you," Remus threatened, and Oswald giggled nervously. "Only kidding. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. So here's the secret: once I had to spend the night in the Hospital Wing because of a... really bad injury. Woke up crying in the middle of the night. Madam Pomfrey had to come in and try to calm me down. It was awful." Remus grimaced. Truth was, he did that every month. "My point is... Madam Pomfrey doesn't judge. She's lovely."

"That's g-good. Some of the teachers scare me."

"How are your classes, then?" asked Remus; from personal experience, he knew that walking whilst in pain was much easier when one was distracted.

"They're okay," said Oswald. "I'm... what was the word? Muggle-born. I didn't even know wizards existed. I'm still trying to catch up."

"My mum's a Muggle. She still gets confused sometimes, and she's been married to my dad—who's a wizard—for a whole thirteen years. No shame in being confused sometimes."

"Yeah, it's hard. And Transfiguration is hard, too. I think I might fail that class."

"I never got the hang of it, myself. Professor McGonagall's nicer than she looks, though. She let me re-attempt my Transfiguration exam last year when I nearly failed it."

"Was it hard?"

"No. I just panicked. You'll be okay. So... how are you feeling? Does it feel like a virus or something?"

"Feels like I'm dying."

Remus laughed. "Makes sense. You're paying attention to where we're going, right? Just for next time, in case there ever is one. Take a turn here... and here it is. Hospital Wing. Do you want me to come in with you?" Remus prayed that Oswald would say no. Madam Pomfrey might want to keep Remus for a check-up, and Remus definitely did not want that.

"Yes."

"Sure." Remus opened the door and helped Oswald in, suppressing a sigh of disappointment. "Madam Pomfrey? I found an ill first-year in the corridor."

She clucked her tongue—there were already two people in the main ward. "Oh, dear. You can lie down on the bed, Mr..."

"Collins. Ozzie Collins."

"Mr. Collins. And nothing's wrong with you, Lupin?"

"No," said Remus quickly. "Nothing."

Madam Pomfrey gave Remus a scrutinizing look... but finally, to Remus' great relief, she nodded. "Good. You may go back to... whatever you were doing."

Remus gave Oswald one last encouraging look before hurrying out of the infirmary. He wasn't sure how long he had until Madam Pomfrey changed her mind and decided to keep him for a check-up after all.

Now that Remus had done his good deed of the day, it was time to return to his friends, try to forget about his guilt and worry, and endure James' incessant planning... and he'd never expected to be so excited about it.

AN: Can you believe it's almost April?! Time flies (unlike Remus, apparently).